


King's Future

by XenaAthena



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13769682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XenaAthena/pseuds/XenaAthena
Summary: Wakanda is in a state of disarray after the assassination of King T'Chaka. His son, T'Challa, ascends the throne but there are some who believe him unfit for the role. Facing a challenging future T'Challa finds himself struggling with his new kingship. But, when the threat of his assassination is nearly successful, he finds an unexpected ally in Markitte Tenderé. Her assistance maybe the difference between life and death…





	King's Future

The view out of the floor to ceiling windows of T’Challa’s hotel suite didn’t offer any solace as he gazed at the illumined city below. His eyes drift aimlessly around the city’s streets, observing people casually walking and talking, couples holding hands and parents carrying sleeping children into the hotel. Nothing unusual or concerning but when his eyes zero in on a white van, he’s hit with bone-chilling déjà vu. He moves closer to the window, mind caught in the memory of the explosion.

T’Challa had reacted as quickly as he could, had tried desperately to reach his Father, King T’Chaka, to protect him from the explosion but it was too late. His Father died and now T’Challa bears the title and responsibility of King. The Wakandan Royal Ring that rests on his left ring finger, serves as a constant reminder of the title. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and centers himself in the present. His head twitches to the right while his eyes open, out his peripheral he fixates on the French doors that lead into his room.

In the corridor outside of King T’Challa’s hotel suite, the Dora Milaje feel as if they are fighting against wind. The woman who they are fighting seems to know every move they make and are going to make. Easily dodging any and all attacks towards her. She is almost nothing but a blur to them as she gets closer and closer to their King’s location. Various Dora Milaje block her path causing her to halt but only for a heartbeat before she’s a somewhat of a blur once more.

Okoye, the leader of the Dora Milaje and Ayo, the head of security for King T’Challa, stand nearest to the King’s suite. They watch as the woman, who bears no weapons use nothing but her hands to swiftly disarm and knock down those who block her path. She didn’t injure anyone as she cleared a path for herself. Spinning and ducking out of the way of spears that would have, more than likely, inflicted serious damage had they made contact with her flesh.

Ayo and Okoye both spring into action when she reaches them. If this woman wants to reach their King, she will have to kill them. They share a brief look of disbelief, not comprehending what’s just transpired and the woman barges her way into the King’s suite. They don’t know how it happened, one second they were fighting her together and the next, they’ve been disarmed and are now on the ground.

T’Challa moves towards the door that leads to his room but freezes in place when they are flung open. Confused is an understatement as he beholds the unknown woman who barged into his room, uninvited and unannounced. Especially as she appears to have just rolled out of bed. Due to the fact, she’s wearing a purple over-sized t-shirt that exposes her right shoulder while her legs are bare, and she is barefoot as well. Her frantic gaze shifts to the windows and he glances at them only to let out a grunt as he’s tackled onto the bed behind him.

The windows shatter as an array of bullets are fired into the room. Nearly missing them both as they lay on the bed in a tangled mess. T’Challa lifts his gaze upwards and swiftly wraps an arm around the woman’s back before rolling them over as bullets are embedded into the mattress where they laid not even a heartbeat ago. The shots are borderline deafening and glass is flying through the air, raining down upon them. They continue to roll, both using the other’s bodyweight to aid them and just barely missing the shards of glass that continues to rain down.

Neither realizes they’re approaching the edge of the bed until they are falling off of it. T’Challa groans as his back collides with the ground and the woman lands harshly on top of him. She throws her arm above his head causing his head to turn slightly to the side as she shields his face with her bare shoulder. A bullet grazes her shoulder and she lets out a brief soft scream. Her arm shakes and he turns his head, watching as blood slowly surfaces from beneath her rich brown skin and pools around the wound.

The instinct to protect kicks in for T’Challa and he swiftly wraps his arms around the woman before rolling them both onto their sides. He huddles his body around hers while his back is pressed against the side of the bed, using it as cover. Pieces of the mattress, the pillows and bed coverings go swirling into the air and he pulls her closer to his body. The heat from the bullets causes sweat to form on both their bodies as they cling to each other.

Okoye, Ayo and the Dora Milaje storm into T’Challa’s room, tossing spears along with various weapons at a ship that’s firing relentlessly into the room. Minimal damage is done to ship but their weapons are enough to deter the assault as whoever is within the ship withdraws their attack. Before, anyone can react the ship lets out a blinding flash of light that momentarily stuns everyone. Disoriented, Okoye, Ayo and the Dora Milaje stumble towards the shattered windows in search of the ship that’s vanished.

T’Challa lets out a surprised grunt when the woman rolls onto her back, taking him with her as he’s still clinging to her. Utterly bewildered, he untangles his arms from her and pushes himself onto his forearms then stares down at the woman. She stares at him with equal bewilderment and he notices a hint of purple smoke fading from her gentle eyes. They remain lying on the floor, surrounded by the devastation of the once pristine room just staring at each other. Seemingly trying to get answers from unspoken questions.

Romanda, the Queen Mother of Wakanda and Shuri, the Princess of Wakanda, rush into T’Challa’s room in a frenzy. Romanda’s heart is hammering in her chest then leaps into her throat upon seeing the devastation of her son’s room. Her mind instantly goes to worst case scenario and she fears what state she will find her son in if he’s dead or alive. Rounding the bed she freezes in place with slightly parted lips. Her mind can’t comprehend what she is seeing for it is the furthest thing from what she was expecting to see.

Shuri comes to a halt beside her mother and gasps in shock as she gazes down at her brother. Her shock turns into amused confusion and she covers her mouth with her hand, in efforts to hide her smile. It’s not every day one finds their brother in such a position and she turns her attention elsewhere, half out of respect and half out the fact that T’Challa is clad in only black, skin-tight boxers. With an unknown woman lying underneath him, her bare legs are wrapped around his waist and her hands rest on his shoulders.

The clearing of a throat causes T’Challa to glance over his shoulder, and he finds his mother raising a questioning brow at him. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s at a loss for words since he has absolutely no idea what just happened or the identity of the woman who is laying under him. And, that’s when he registers the position that he is and it seems that it registers for her as well since she swiftly unwraps her legs from him and removes her hands.

T’Challa shuffles to his feet and the instant he does the Dora Milaje point their spears at the woman who raises her hands in surrender. “I come in peace!” she nervously says, wide eyes drifting frantically about the spears that are pointed at her. With a raised hand from the King, the Dora Milaje withdraw their weapons from the woman and she cautiously sits up. It’s strange, for mere moments ago she was fearlessly fighting the Dora Milaje and now she is frightened of them. Which casts more suspicion from the Dora Milaje as to who this woman is. Their hardened gazes lock onto her and she shrinks into herself while clutching her bleeding shoulder.

Stepping carefully around broken glass, T’Challa picks up his bathrobe from the floor, it had been draped over a chair but the chair now lays in pieces. After shaking off shards of glass, he puts it on and turns his attention to the woman. He can’t help but feel sympathetic towards her since she looks utterly terrified and rightfully so. She not only barged into his room uninvited, she in a sense assaulted him when she tackled him. However, the fact that she did save his life does play in her favor since if she hadn’t barged in and tackled him, he more than likely would be dead with numerous bullet holes in his chest.

“What is your name?” asks T’Challa in a calm voice, hoping to ease the woman’s nervousness.

“M-my name?” she stutters and he nods. “I’m Markitte Tenderé, your h-highness.”

“Well, Ms. Tenderé, how did you know someone was going to shoot into my room?”

With that question, Markitte’s eyes went wide with fear and her lips form a thin line. Tension in the room increases, the Dora Milaje’s grip on their weapons turns their knuckles white and T’Challa moves to stand in front of his Mother and Sister. Markitte’s opens her mouth multiple times but no sound comes out, almost as if she is either at a loss for words or is resisting revealing something.

“I….um….I overheard someone talking of attacking the…the…um King,” she uncertainly says, shifting onto her knees and hissing as she moves her injured shoulder.

A blatant lie and T’Challa narrows his eyes at Markitte. Why is she lying? His gaze shifts to her shoulder, noticing blood seeping onto her fingers and her grip tightens then lessens as the pain increases from the pressure.

“Who spoke of attacking my son?” Romanda asks, eyes cold and unyielding as she stares down Markitte.

Markitte’s heart rate increases tenfold under the cold hard stare of the Queen Mother of Wakanda. She knows that she’s lying, Markitte has never been good at lying but what else was she supposed to do? Telling the truth would be revealing a lifelong secret and that is not something she wishes to do. But, if she doesn’t, could she face repercussions? She has no idea what they could do to her if they see her as a threat and an injured arm is enough injuries for her lifetime.

With a heavy sigh, Markitte closes her eyes and swallows her fear. “No one spoke of harming the King, I-I saw it happen…”

“Saw it happen?” Shuri leans to the side to look at Markitte from behind T’Challa. “How?”

“I can see things before they happen,” Markitte mumbles.

Shuri eyebrows rose, unable to mask her surprise with this new found knowledge. “You have the power of premonition?” she asks, sidestepping her brother and Markitte nods with her eyes still closed and head hung. “You saw the ship?”

“No. I saw the King standing by the windows,” Markitte opens her eyes and casts an uneasy glance to T’Challa, who is looking at her with slight confusion. “And then bullets shooting into him…”

Romanda closes her eyes for a moment, hoping to rid herself of an unpleasant picture of her son lying dead in a pool of his own blood. Her son’s death due to his new kingship is one of her biggest fears and hearing that had it not been for Markitte, her fear would have been a devastating reality. Opening her eyes she looks to her children, T’Challa seems slightly perturbed and Shuri appears mildly frightened.

“Am I in trouble?” Markitte timidly inquires, glancing fearfully at the Dora Milaje’s weapons.

“No, you are not,” replies T’Challa, giving Markitte a thankful smile when she looks at him. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Y-you’re welcome, your highness.” Markitte gives a brief bow of her head then glances around the room, having never seen the amount of damage bullets can inflict within a matter of minutes. She is both startled and frightened by the devastation. Though, it’s better that the room took the damage than the King. Glancing at her shoulder, she feels slightly nauseous at the sight of her own blood.

“I can help you with that.” Shuri looks at Markitte’s wound and pulls out a small device from the pocket of her pajama pants. She kneels before Markitte, who looks at her in shock and tries to stand but Shuri stops her by holding the device toward her injured shoulder. “This device will heal your wound but it will sting a little. Okay?” she smiles reassuringly at Markitte and she timidly removes her shaky blood stained hand from her shoulder.

The device glows and a low buzzing sound emanates from it as it whirls to life. Markitte watches in curious fascination as multiple beams of light trace around her wound before a burning sensation spreads along her shoulder. So much for it stinging a little. Her face twists in mild discomfort and she turns her head in the opposite direction of her injured shoulder. Taking deep breaths, she tries to distract herself from the discomfort of her skin being pulled together, which is by far the oddest sensation she’s ever experienced.

“All done!” Shuri proudly says as the device turns off. Pleased with her new device she stands and turns T’Challa with a teasing smile. “I told you it works.”

Markitte looks at her shoulder, surprised to find the wound completely healed as the only evidence that there was one is her drying blood. Gently, she presses her forefinger on her shoulder and lets out a soft hiss.

Shuri turns to face her with a sympathetic smile. “It will be tender for a few days but that will dissipate soon.”

“T-thank you,” Markitte says as she tries to rise to her feet but stumbles. She glances up in surprise upon feeling a pair of hands grab hers and finds the King helping to her feet. She avoids his gaze, embarrassed by the fact his hands now have her blood on them and looks at the floor. “Thank you, my King,” she whispers while removing her hands from his. “Do…uh…do you need help with anything?” she gestures vaguely to the room.

“No,” says T’Challa. “Thank you for the offer, Ms. Tenderé.”

“May I…um….l-leave then?”

“Yes, you may.”

Without another word, Markitte practically bolts out of the room, avoiding the glass shards that decorate the floor and spars the Dora Milaje a fearful glance as she passes them. She disappears from view and everyone begins to search the room. Hoping to find clues as to who attacked but the devastation offers none. The bullet holes aren’t familiar and no one was able to get a decent look at the ship. Video footage will have to be reviewed for that. An unspoken agreement to departure immediately is shared by a single look. Everyone but T’Challa leaves the suite since he needs to dress in appropriate attire.

Walking into the bathroom, the automated lights flicker on and T’Challa approaches the vanity. The marble countertop is cooling to his throbbing palms as he leans his body weight against them. The realization that he almost died hits him like a ton of bricks. He had been lost in a memory and that nearly cost him his life. His mind replayed the prior events, trying to recall hearing the ship but all he heard at the time was the commotion in the hallway. Why couldn’t he hear the ship? He should have heard its approach.

Shaking his head, T’Challa turns on the tap and washes Markitte’s blood off his hands, regret floods his thoughts at the memory of a bullet grazing her. Those bullets were meant for him, not her. She was so dauntless in saving his life and he can’t help but feel indebted to her. Not many would risk their life for another, King or not, that is something very few people willingly do. Yet, she had. He begins to wonder who exactly she is and makes a mental note to have Shuri do a background check, for lack of a better term, on her.

After getting dressed and meeting up with his Mother and Sister, T’Challa takes a seat inside the transport home. The atmosphere is thick with tension and rightfully so, with no idea who attacked, all can’t help but anticipate a second. It’s a madding feeling to have and it has T’Challa standing up and pacing the transport, gaze constantly watching the windows he passes. Romanda holds her daughter’s hand, watching her son warily pace before her. As his Mother, she wants nothing more than to hold him and reassure him that everything will be okay. But, as the Queen Mother, she must allow him to deal with his emotions in the manner he sees fit, he is the King after all.

An hour later, T’Challa calms enough to sit down but his gaze is directed out the window to his left. Shuri sleeps soundly with her head resting on her Mother’s shoulder while Romanda watches her son. “You should rest,” she whispers to him, knowing that it will be a few more hours until they reach their home.

“I will later,” T’Challa says softly, gaze never leaving the window. His response didn’t pacify his Mother as he can still feel her worry filled eyes watching him. “Rest Mother, I will be fine.”

Romanda lets out a soft chuckle and T’Challa glances at her. “You are just like your Father,” she fondly says with a smile. She doesn’t say another word as she closes her eyes and gently rests her head against her daughter’s, sleep overcoming her in a matter of minutes.

Below the transport is the nation of Wakanda and T’Challa gaze down as they fly above it. Wakanda is his nation, his home, his people and he’s sworn to protect them. An oath that he does not take lightly but right now, Wakanda is in disarray after his Father’s death. Tribes are fighting about what to do, about what’s right and it’s up him to keep the peace. Which he cannot do if he’s dead. With a heavy sigh, he leans his head against the window, shoulders slumping under the invisible weight he carries. His eyes watch Wakanda’s lights blur below and he silently hopes that he will be able to uphold his Father’s legacy.

It’s sunrise by the time they reach their destination and T’Challa gently wakes his Mother, she awakens with a soft jolt, which in turn wakes Shuri. Romanda looks at her son with sadness in her eyes, his exhausted appearance informs her that he never slept. Shuri looks at her brother with a frown but before either woman can voice their concern, T’Challa is walking towards the exit of the transport. Okoye, Ayo and the Dora Milaje have lined up with the other Dora Milaje who guard the palace, waiting at attention as the royal family passes them.

T’Challa just barely walks inside before his hand is taken by Shuri and she leads him towards her lab. He looks to his Mother to ensure that she is alright, and she simply smiles with a nod, watching her children disappear from her sight. Shuri is practically dragging her brother as his steps are sluggish but she doesn’t mind. Besides, what she wants to show him is far more important than him getting rest, in her humble opinion.

The hallways that lead to Shuri’s lab are empty and T’Challa is thankful for that, an exhausted King is not a sight he wishes for his people to witness. Arriving at the lab, Shuri lets go of his hand and rushes towards one her computers. Pulling out the device she used to heal Markitte’s wound, she turns it on and instantly it connects to the mainframe. A loading symbol appears on the screen and T’Challa looks at with mild confusion. “Shuri?”

“I thought you would want to know who Markitte Tenderé is,” she casually says, tapping the screen multiple times. “I collected her DNA and in a few moments we will know all about her!”

“You took her DNA without her permission?” T’Challa’s question is more of a statement and he crosses his arms.

Shuri turns around to look at her Brother, blinking multiple times at him as she struggles to defend her actions. “Her DNA was already there, healing her wound only served as a means of collecting it.” She shrugs and her brother looks disapprovingly at her. “Would you have preferred that she be left to bleed?”

Her brother shakes his head with a sigh, not agreeing with obtaining someone’s DNA without their knowledge or consent, but, what’s is done is done. Might as well see what the results are and he gestures with his hand for Shuri to continue. She smiles at him before spinning around and tapping the screen, bringing up the results. “Markitte Tenderé,” she reads aloud. “Recently unemployed due to company bankruptcy, says that she was one of the company’s top employees. Punctual, Hard Working, Business Savvy and that’s a rather extensive list of compliments. What else is there?” she swipes her hand across the screen, sending screen after screen away as she reads. “She has no criminal background, no known criminal associates and has never even gotten a parking ticket. She’s clean and seems like a decent person.”

Strangely enough, T’Challa isn’t surprised by what they find as he felt that Markitte is indeed a decent person.

“Perhaps we can provide her with a job?” Shuri suggests, raising her brows with a wide smile.

T’Challa recognizes that expression and tilts his head to the side while narrowing his eyes. “What job do you have in mind Shuri?”

“She could use her power of premonition to aid you.”

“Aid me how?”

“She can see the future, therefore she can tell you what’s coming and warn you of another threat.”

It’s a tempting idea and T’Challa will admit that to himself but he can’t justify putting an innocent woman’s life at risk for his benefit. “No.”

Shuri had anticipated her Brother’s response but feels she’s ready any of his objections. “Why not?”

“I will not put an innocent and defenseless life at risk for my own benefit.”

“She doesn’t look that defenseless to me,” Shuri replies, tapping the screen behind her and then gestures for her Brother to watch the screen.

T’Challa glance at Shuri before directing his attention to the screen, being displayed is Hotel security footage and what he seeing is rather surprising. For Markitte fights against the most elite members of the Dora Milaje with nothing but her bare hands. Never has he seen someone fight in such a manner that makes them almost nothing but a blur. Perhaps, she isn’t defenseless but he still can’t justify having her aid him as that would put her life at risk. Turning his attention back to Shuri, he shakes his head. “No.”

“But-” Shuri’s objection dies in her throat as T’Challa turns and leaves her lab without another word. Turning to face the screen once more, Shuri focuses her efforts on finding the ship that attacked her Brother. Swiping her hand across the screen, she clears all the windows but pauses for a moment as a picture of Markitte appears. Maybe T’Challa will change his mind but for now, she regretfully drops the topic and clears anything related to Markitte.


End file.
